philippe delvaux

EURO PORN MODEL PHILIPPE DELVAUX FAKES DEATH IN ORDER TO KILL OFF HIS PORN PERSONA?

Belgian bottom and noted alcohol fan Philippe Delvaux supposedly died recently while on holiday in Croatia of an “overdose of alcohol,” according to his “aunt.”

Delvaux’s “aunt” wrote in to GayPornGossip last week with the news, wanting “his fans and friends we don’t know also [to] be informed to process the loss.” But now a friend writes in to this blogconfirming that he is alive and well and apparently just vacationing in Croatia with a “girlfriend” and wanting to kill off his porn persona once and for all. He may have been impersonating his own aunt in that email.

Delvaux, born David M. Van Buggenhout in Antwerp, Belgium, won the Hustlaball Best New Actor award in 2009 after making some appearances in American porn at the age of 19 for studios likeNext Door Buddies, Hot House, and COLT. More recently he’d been doing more porn in Europe for Eurocreme and English Lads. He was a thick-dicked twink with a cute mop of blond curls, and he will surely be missed.

Back in 2011 The Sword reported on a violent run-in Delvaux had with a couple of guys outside a club in Amsterdam, which sounded like an alcohol-fueled brawl over something — Delvaux claimed it was because two new friends were upset that he was getting too much attention.

Pink In Our Lives reports that the death is all a hoax, and it seems pretty stupid and unnecessary — especially if the goal was to avoid attention — since Philippe had barely been on anyone’s radar since that Amsterdam fistfight anyway.

Below, watch Philippe in a scene with Next Door Buddies, getting fucked by Spencer Reed. Also, him riding Mason Wyler’s cock, and a scene from Hot House where he’s getting fucked by former big Hot House star Kyle King, circa 2009.

EURO PORN MODEL PHILIPPE DELVAUX FAKES DEATH IN ORDER TO KILL OFF HIS PORN PERSONA? was originally published on FrickyGay

some live, hot man-fucking (La Demence Cruise Day 3: Pompeii; Napoli; a live sex show with porn stars; and the Uniform party)


Click here to check out Day 2.

Our first stop was Napoli, one of the largest cities in Italy. Many people said it was a seedy town, so we only took our ship IDs and some cash. We’d bought excursions for a walking tour of Pompeii, a 20-ish minute bus ride away, and a tour of Napoli.
Let me tell you: Pompeii was totally Bohoken’s obsession. Personally, I would have been just fine to sleep in, walk around Napoli in the afternoon and right-click on someone else’s Pompeii photos like, “And look what else you can do in Italy!” Instead, I dragged ass to the theater to meet our group and disembark at 10:15am. Yay.


It turns out Pompeii is an actual current city with a thriving (read: alive) population. There’s even a Burger King and a 9/11 memorial (I’m not sure why, but I was touched nonetheless). We had a tour of a portion of the ruins with an Italian female guide who gave her facts in both English and French. We also had some rambunctious gays who added their commentary to everything she said in French. They thought they were hilarious, but after the first 15 minutes, I’m sure even those who understood them began to tire of the middle school antics. Though I have to admit that maybe every 20th prank actually made me guffaw.
Our tour was entertaining and educational and not nearly as much torture as I was expecting (can you tell walking tours aren’t my thing?). Back at the drop-off point, I was looking for some vodka to spike my frosty drink (oh, like you didn’t see that coming), and I wandered past a bunch of vendor tents. One of the vendors started waving at me and saying what I thought was an offer to take a picture of his table. It took me a second to see that he wanted me to pose for a picture of me with his young hot friend.
“Sure!”
Apparently I got “good price” for the fans I got for a few female family members. I passed on the winged erection statues he was selling, mostly for weight reasons, but I did get a few inappropriate magnets to commemorate the pictorial menu on the walls of the Pompeii brothel.


Ps, it wasn’t until I wrote that last sentence that I made the connection between the drawings on the magnets and on the brothel walls. Fuck you, I was on 3 hours sleep!
Our tour of Napoli was basically a quick bus ride, but Bohoken and I did our own wandering after. Iconic Italian balconies with clothing drying on them were all we saw above us on the side streets. I almost expected an opera soprano to treat us to an aria while she spread a sheet to dry in the sun.
If you ever go to Napoli, definitely go to Pizza e Babba on Via Monteclvario (just off of Via Medina). While the service was, well, European, the food was excellent! Fresh pasta, fresh mussels… and now I feel like Mary J. Blige in a Burger King commercial. Just trust, the food was awesome!
After our food and wine, we dodged motorbikesambled around until we saw an entrance for the Napoli Metro. Being the slight transit nerd that I am, I led Bohoken underground.
I felt like I’d walked into Yotel (if you’ve never heard of it, ultra- modern hotel that’s almost Pokemon themed with a great brunch special at the restaurant). The lobby was all bright colors, shiny surfaces and fucking spotless! I had to see the rest of the station.


After a bit of hesitation from Bohoken, I convinced him to get us passes for the train even though we had nowhere to go. The station just got more and more cool as we went in. It was all pinks and yellows and whites with lighted tiles overhead and orange handrails on the escalators. The train platform itself smelled like a basement, and the train itself wasn’t that remarkable when it arrived, but it was totally worth the euro or two fare to walk around and check it out.
Back on the ship, they’d put up notices for the day’s shows, and one of them was the “Sexy Show” featuring porn stars that I’d seen in the cruise guide before we’d come. It was pretty ambiguous what “Sexy Show” meant, even when I read the “Sex Show” on the notice in the elevator. All I knew was that I wasn’t missing this damned show.
Bohoken and I arrived about 10 minutes early to get a good spot. They held the show in the disco where they had a bed in the middle of the dance floor lit with black lights. On it, a European muscle-twink displayed himself in a jock strap with a hard on, stroking himself through the fabric and posing for photos. 2 tall, muscular white guys crossed the dance floor fully clothed and went into the dark room backstage area, so I assumed one was the top and one was the fluffer.


While all this was going on, they had some kind of electronic mood music playing and a guy with a accent that I couldn’t pinpoint on a microphone. It was astounding how unsexy his set-the-mood voice was.
“Ooooo, are you feeling sexy?”
“Are you ready for some live, hot man-fucking?”
“Mmmm, sooooo hot!”
“That’s a nice ass. I bet you are going to be very comfortable in that ass.”
And THEN they had a drag queen host. Now, I love Nickie Nicole, but there is no quicker boner killer than a drag queen’s occasional sighing and moaning in her female persona. It was no surprise that the top had trouble getting going.
After about 15 minutes of the very eager bottom giving head (the top was quite rough with him), Nickie Nicole announced a “big finish”. I thought the show was about to end without them fucking, but the top got his hard-on going, grabbed a condom and some lube (and some spit) and worked that young Euro ass OUT!


Then here comes Nickie Nicole over to the bed as they’re fucking. I was like “Oh lord. What now?” I wasn’t prepared for her to do what could be considered the smartest thing I saw the whole week: she sat down on the bed next to the couple, leaned in towards the bottom and held the microphone up to his mouth so the crowd could hear him moan as he got relentlessly pounded.
After the required money shot, Nickie Nicole planted a kiss on both penises (yes, girl!) and offered the boys for photos. Everyone had their cameras out (did I mention the cruise ship staff person [from the boat, not the gay coordinating company] who had been filming the whole show?), but no one wanted to go up.
“Well, if nobody’s gonna come up, I’m just gonna have to call people up. And I want somebody who looks like me! Somebody dark to put between these to European men. Any hot black guys?”
I stood there on the front row of people standing (they’d asked the first 5 or so rows of people to sit on the floor), hoping she wouldn’t call me out. I have this thing about other people’s bodily fluids getting on me. And I def wasn’t trying to accidentally brush up against some Wet Platinum and stain my outfit!
Finally, a European guy got up and sat on the bed between the actors, who were standing on the bed above him so that their crotches were just above eye level.


Nickie: “Oh my god, do I have to direct everything? You’re posing with two hot porn stars! Grab something!”
He grabbed both dicks and smiled for the camera. Then the top took his dick and tapped it on the guy’s head. Then his face. Then he pushed the guy’s face into the bottom’s ass. The guy made the best of an awkward situation and started licking like there was Pinkberry in there! The crowd went wild!
“We will be holding auditions later, so write down your name and your cabin number…”
I’d had my fill of Sexy Show for the day.
I wanted to do the piano karaoke that night, but the piano player only knew French songs.
After dinner, we got changed for the Uniforms party. Bohoken and I went for the cheap Chippendale look with bow ties, collars and cuffs with black undies. Bohoken originally wanted to do Star Trek (which would have been brilliant and totally unique among the crowd at the party), but the costumes they had at the store we went do didn’t fit.
I don’t know how exactly we were introduced, but we started talking to the cutest Asian guy. The Aussie accent was a huge bonus. After a bit, we invited him to our cabin.


Him: “I don’t know. I mean, I really want to, but I don’t want to leave my friend.” Me: “Considering I haven’t seen said friend since we started talking, something tells me he’s fine. Here’s what you do: buy him a drink and tell him you’ll be back in an hour. He’ll total—” Him: “Let’s go.” Me: “Huh? Er, I mean, cool.”
Did I mention I love my life? Yeah.
Speaking of Aussie hotness, click here to check out my last night in Melbourne, VIC, Australia. 

Click here to check out Day 4: The Disco tea dance & the White Party.